


Lepidopteran Lover

by Anonymous



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Please Don't Hate Me, Sad Keith (Voltron), also please dont take any of this seriously, au where lance is mothman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 17:32:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9775535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Keith always loved Mothman, but he never knew that Mothman would be the one to save him from himself.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Essentially this is just klance emotional hurt/comfort fluff but with uncomfortably anatomically correct moth references. Enjoy

_“I like it out here. It’s quiet.”_

Keith Dark’ness Dementia Raven Kogane used the toe of his boot to play with a rock on the ground next to him. He spent a lot of time in the woods since it provided a convenient escape from dealing with people which he absolutely hated to do. He was sitting on a small incline overlooking a more shallow part of some bayou that was rocky enough to produce some white noise as the water hit whatever was in its way.

Once again, he was thinking too much. His thoughts were so deep and existential and nihilistic that his forehead clenched to the point where his eyebrows were almost touching each other. This was pretty normal for Keith, he was just a really profound person in general since he spent a lot of time brooding about not having a family. Right now he was lost in thought about a debate he had had with one of his fellow foster children.

...  
 _“As of yet, there’s no real, tangible evidence to support the existence of aliens!” argued some douche._

_“It’s arrogant and naive to believe that humans are alone out here in the vast universe,” Keith had snapped back._

_“How can you use that argument and then turn around and say you don’t believe in God, Kogane? It’s all the same blind faith!”_  
...

Keith violently kicked away the rock that he had been toeing as he ruminated on the conversation yet again. He had been humiliated by a 13-year old. The worst part was that he knew how to refute this kid’s weak argument, he just hadn’t had the words prepared beforehand so he floundered and everyone else in the room took that as a win for the other kid. Keith sighed angstily. 

It felt like his black heart was bleeding. Nobody understood him. God, he just needed an outlet. None of the other boys were sensitive like he was, nobody could understand what he was going through. A surge of anger pulsed through his body, so he pulled out his Moleskine journal and started to write down Hemingway quotes from memory.

He had written his favorite, “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed,” around 3 times before he decided he was in a sad enough mood to write some original stuff. He shifted his grip on his pen and let his emotions flow through his veins into the ink and onto the page.

_“have you ever had a really elaborate dream just as you drift off to sleep and it feels like it’s been years and you wake up really afraid and it’s only been like 2 minutes but it seems like so much happened in your dream and then you forget it almost instantaneously and all you can remember is how complex but short it was_

_sometimes that’s how I hope these past few years will be. just a short but complex nightmare that I’ll forget forever.”_

He felt satisfied with what he had written and deep down he congratulated himself for being so profound. His teen angst started to melt away and was replaced by contempt and a want for revenge against the kids who had humiliated him and not believed him. He knew he would never get this revenge, but it was fun to fantasize about outsmarting their weak logic in arguments.

Suddenly he heard a rustling in the bushes. He thought to himself, what could that be?

He turned and he was face to face with red compound eyes with hexagonal lenses. Could it be?

“M….mothman?” Keith asked, tentatively. He could hardly believe it was happening. In his time of doubt, in his time of need, the one person who he needed the most appeared. “But this is Texas, not West Virginia.”

“Yep, it’s me,” the dark figure replied with an air of bravado, “the name’s Lance.” He made a finger gun at Keith and then proceeded to rest his chin on the webbing of his hand.

Keith didn’t reply; he was stricken with this discovery. After years of just sensing that cryptids exist with no proof, one of them has finally revealed himself to Keith. Keith’s mouth was slightly parted from the slack in his jaw put there by the wonder he felt for the moth-boy standing in front of him.

And a boy he was. Keith was excited due to the fact that he had discovered the very person (thing?) for whom he had been waiting his whole life, but on another level he was excited because he couldn’t ignore how undeniably male he was. Keith could smell his musk from where he stood, it was almost as if he was wearing Gaultier cologne but that was just his natural scent. Keith thanked the gods of moth pheromones.

Mothman, who had recently identified himself as Lance, opened his mouth as if to say something. He paused, either to think or for dramatic effect, Keith couldn’t tell, and then he said, “Are you a Wendigo? Because I want you to Wendi-go out with me.”

Keith swooned.

A cryptid themed pick-up line? This boy was perfect for him. Mothman was perfect for him. Lance was perfect for him. Keith couldn’t help letting a pathetic whimper escape his lips.

“I saw you brooding,” Lance continued, “and I thought it was so hot. I couldn’t keep myself hidden. I couldn’t keep myself away from you. I’m so sorry.”

Keith grabbed two of Lance’s six legs and held his gaze with Lance’s compound eyes. “Why are you apologizing? You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, Lance.”

A somber look flashed across Lance’s eyes. “That’s the thing about cryptids,” he revealed, “once you see one, you must become one. It’s how we keep the secret from humans. If anybody found out, anybody who isn’t like us, who wouldn’t understand, the government would try to control us. They would put us in zoos and do experiments on us. The only way to remain free is to stay hidden, and the only way to stay hidden is to make those who witness us join us.”

Keith’s pupils were blown so wide there was hardly any purple iris visible. He just wanted Lance to take him. He wanted what Lance was discussing, he wanted to become a cryptid so badly. Maybe then he can finally find a purpose in life and be happy. 

Lance leaned in so that his head was nearly touching Keith. Then, he slowly unrolled his tubular proboscis and closed the distance between himself and Keith’s lips.

Keith was living the dream. Not only had he discovered a cryptid, but he was to become one. He could hardly believe that this was happening. Nothing before in his life had ever prepared him for this sort of ecstasy, for up until this moment it had been only suffering and misfortune. His luck was taking a turn, however, and Lance was making his dreams of becoming a cryptid and isolating himself from humanity come true. Lance peppered Keith’s skin with kisses from his proboscis, sweet ones on the corner of his mouth as well as his cheek and his temple. It was the kind of tenderness that Keith had always imagined Mothman would have. He had been right.

“I know we just met,” Keith broke the kiss as he breathed into Lance’s thoracic hearing membrane, “but I feel like I’ve known you for ages. I think this is love at first sight.”

Lance, ever the punny (moth)man, breathed back, “don’t you mean love at first flight?”

Suddenly, four sturdy limbs wrapped themselves around Keith’s waist with no trace of shyness. Keith gasped as Lance spun him around, hoisting him into the air as he used his remaining two legs to run and take off. Craning his neck, Keith saw Lance’s majestic wings unfold, black scales glinting slightly in the light of the setting sun.

Keith felt like Jasmine, but even luckier. He wasn’t being whisked off his feet by some liar, some nobody. Here he was, together with Mothman, on a first name basis, most likely about to start a life with him. The thought of how far he has come even in the past 30 minutes was enough to bring tears to his eyes.

Lance detected his crying and immediately went to soothe him. “Shh, it’s okay, I was nervous at first when it happened to me as well. I set a trap for Bigfoot and caught him, and when he told me the rule about seeing a cryptid I didn’t want to give up my life. I was a caliente boy from Cuba about to make it big in the acting industry. No way in hell did I think I was going to be happy with this life. But now I know I definitely am. Especially now that you’re here.”

By the end of Lance’s blurb, Keith was fighting back sobs. His tears were falling from the sky off of his face because he was so happy this was happening to him. “No, you don’t understand,” he corrected Lance, “I’m crying because this is the first time in my life that I’ve ever been happy.”

Keith’s words touched Lance’s heart and love for him coursed through the hemolymph in his dorsal veins. His bipectinate antennae flapped in the head wind against which he was flying. He flipped Keith around in his grip so that they were looking each other in the eyes as Lance flew them to their destination.

“You can be happy with me,” breathed Lance, before he unfurled his proboscis again to leave a trail of kisses and marks along Keith’s collarbone as they flew. Keith felt fur growing on his skin wherever Lance’s kisses were and excitement bubbled up from within. He couldn’t wait to become a cryptid, then he would finally be happy with who he was.

Mothman helped him be happy with who he was.

For Keith, that was the definition of love.

**Author's Note:**

> If you've made it this far,  
> 1\. I admire your strength of will. If I came across it I would have closed out within the first paragraph.  
> 2\. I'm so sorry


End file.
